


just give me a sign

by soul_of_spades



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: "Your Soulmates First Words To You Are Tatted On Your Skin", Adora doesn't believe in soulmates, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Fluff, I blame New Girl for this flavor of humor, Some Serious Rom-Com vibes, and the universe tells her NO, in the most rom-com way possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_of_spades/pseuds/soul_of_spades
Summary: She always preached that love was flexible, that no “powers” that be truly dictated the feelings of the heart.Still, on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, Adora couldn’t help but wonder: what would her soulmate’s first words to her be?And then the universe delivered her a sign.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 334





	just give me a sign

Adora isn’t proud to admit that she’d fallen victim to the “soulmates” craze that normally overshadows a person’s eighteenth birthday, and inevitably for the rest of their life moving forward. 

She always preached that love was flexible, that no “powers” that be truly dictated the feelings of the heart. Just look at her adoptive mothers Mara and Hope; they weren’t soulmates, yet they still found each other and fell hopelessly in love. Plus, Adora is _adopted_ . Her life could be considered the walking contradiction of soulmates. Imagine if her birth parents were soulmates and still decided to give her up —now _that_ wouldn’t bode well for society’s soulmate agenda, and she posted just as much on her cringey blog back in high school.

Still, on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, Adora couldn’t help but wonder: what would her soulmate’s first words to her be?

Butterflies fluttered in her belly at the thought. Suddenly, all that big talk about “love finding a way and existing outside a soulmate vacuum” just abandoned her. She was on the edge of her seat, waiting, hoping. Maybe she’d been too harsh; maybe soulmates weren’t just an obnoxious hoax. She’d wake up, and the beginnings of her one great love story would be engraved into her skin. Against her gut instinct, Adora decided to give in to hope. 

And then the universe delivered her a sign. 

_Watch where you’re going, dumbass! … Oh, shit._

_That,_ Adora notes grimly, as she wraps up her morning run on a dreary Monday in October, is what she found written on the inside of her wrist on that fateful day. Five years later, and she could still scream about it. 

Because, shouldn’t her soulmate’s first words to her be, you know, _romantic_ —or at the very least, meet-cute? It didn’t have to be anything extraordinary. Hell, Adora would’ve taken a simple “Hello” or “Nice weather we’re having”, but instead she was given the asshole soulmate. She simply cannot fathom that _this_ is the note her great love story is supposed to start on. And another thing: why the ellipses? Is the universe mocking her or something?

 _This must be karma for talking shit about soulmates on my blog,_ she thinks. It’s her only explanation. 

Regardless, Adora has officially lost all faith in this soulmates business, and she has not-so proudly worn a sweatband over her tattoo ever since. 

She plucks at the sweatband with a huff and turns a corner on her usual running route. _No more thinking about soulmates,_ she decides. If anyone asks (which they won’t), she’ll blame it on that eyesore this city calls a billboard advertising customizable jewelry for your soulmate (yeah, she _knows,_ it’s a crime against humanity. To think, she would ever engrave these words on a freakin’ _ring)._

Adora stops at the crosswalk, hums a little tune waiting for the signal to turn, and once it does, breaks into a little jog across the street—

—and nearly gets run over by a Range Rover, of all cars. Okay, run over is coming on a bit too strong—she didn’t even _fall_ over—but her shins _were_ faintly assaulted by the bumper. She still has the right to see her life flash before her eyes. And, to feel inexplicably _pissed_ off. (Glimmer would be so proud of her).

The driver’s side door swings open, and out comes a curly-haired girl who really fills out her pantsuit nicely, Adora must admit, and gets all up in her face and— _oh no she’s hot_. “Watch where you’re going, dumbass!”

Adora gasps, utterly offended. “Me? You almost killed me!” In the heat of the moment, Adora digs deep and finds her inner-Glimmer and her infinite reserves of spite. “And who drives a _Range Rover?_ Might as well paint douchebag on the hood.” 

They glare at each other in the middle of the street, ignoring the insistent calls of car horns, and then… it clicks.

Their eyes grow wide, their jaws drop, and the girl blushes—Adora really hopes she’s not mirroring her right now. 

Fittingly, they both say in unison: _“Oh, shit.”_

(As a running joke years down the line, Catra gets their first words to each other engraved on the inside of their engagement ring, and Adora is honestly too happy, too _helplessly in love_ to care).

**Author's Note:**

> This is a masterpiece, admit it. Hold the applause. But seriously, please comment to let me know what you think! It really motivates me to write more content like this. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
